


let's pick up where we left off

by Leni



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. The one where Winry is a mermaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's pick up where we left off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evil_Little_Dog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/gifts).



> Written for ELD at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/518144.html?thread=75302400#t75302400). Prompt: **Art by M7 Angela** (see below).

Ed's face broke into a grin as he spied the distinctive trail of Winry's pass through the water. He didn't shout her name, nor did he move from his spot. Winry knew her way to the tiny strip of coast in Resembool as well as Edward did (perhaps, he allowed, even better). He sat calmly on their rock, trying to follow her movements even as he let his own feet hover a few inches above the water, enjoying the drops that jumped onto the skin of his right foot with each pass of a wave.

This had been their place ever since that autumn they'd met, more than a decade ago. Not fully of earth nor sea, as the rock stood surrounded by water during the high tide: a fitting meeting point.

It had started when his little brother had spotted something strange a few feet from the waterline. They shouldn't have approached, of course; coming so close to the sea was forbidden unless there was a grown-up close by, and they were supposed to be heading to school, anyway. Perhaps it was the latter that had convinced the two of them to step off the road and go investigate.

Had they imagined they'd find a merchild?

Of course not. Nobody had seen the people from the far seas in decades, and this one was so small, its upper body snuggled against the sand while the waves lapped at its scales, and its dress all askew and muddy around her. Ed still remembered wondering how such a small one had survived all the way from her home to Resembool.

They'd prodded at her, curious and afraid until the strange creature stirred and opened its eyes.

 _Her_ eyes.

The bluest eyes Edward had ever seen - and would see, even after he'd visited far away places in his travels.

She had been so scared, that first time. His first memory of Winry was of her scowling, daring the two earth-bound boys to poke at her again. Alphonse had been the first to understand that, and he'd tossed his stick far away and nudged at Ed to do the same. (He'd just lowered his, unwilling to trust his baby brother to an unknown). But Al, trusting soul that he was, had approached the mergirl and asked if she was all right.

She'd broken into sobs - it was the only time Ed had seen her cry outside the time he came alone to say goodbye - and then just as quickly she dried her tears with the back of her hands and haltingly explained she'd gotten lost in a storm, and that she'd already tried and tried to find the way home and, finally exhausted, the ocean had carried her here in her sleep.

And now she was too tired to try again.

"Can't we help her?" Al had pleaded, turning to him.

Edward had imagined raising a tower from the sand, so tall they'd be able to see miles and miles into the ocean. Then he'd shaken his head. Even if he found the correct alchemy circle for such a thing, he didn't have the power to make it work.

(Not yet.)

"You could... you could stay here," Al had proposed next. "There's a cave close by, fed by the sea. Only we know about it. Well," he'd added, giving Ed a side glance to gauge his reaction. Edward had stared at the sea. "And - and dad, too, because he discovered it. But you can stay there until someone comes for you."

The blue eyes had looked so shocked at the idea. "I can?"

Al, of course, had sought his older brother's support, and since it was difficult to keep distrusting a little girl with a fish tail (and the bluest eyes), Ed had nodded along. "Sure. If you keep moving, your parents may never catch up."

She'd looked distressed. "My granny," she corrected. "It's just Grandma Pinako and I."

"It's just Mom and us, too," Alphonse had shared, paying no attention to Ed's grunt. They were not supposed to know Dad wasn't coming back, after all. Their mom pretended for them, so they'd promised each other to keep up the lie until either Dad did come back or they could go looking for him.

(And hadn't that worked itself out, in the end?)

He had never imagined that first morning would lead to this moment, waiting for his best friend to answer his call. Back then, the only consequence he and Alphonse had faced was the thrashing their mother gave them, and that mostly because Mom had been terrified after seeing them sopping wet and smelling of salt and mud. Once they'd explained they'd gone swimming with a new friend rather than almost drowned on their own, she'd gone on to ask who this new friend could be.

"A mermaid, mama!" Alphonse had happily confessed while Ed was still rubbing his stinging behind. "And she's gonna stay! Well, for a little bit, because she has a grandma and she..."

When his brother had trailed off - his brother, who could rattle away for hours without pause - Ed had looked up and noticed their mother's fearful look. Only _then_ he'd remembered the tales about merpeople, tales that involved townspeople being led into the sea with promises of treasure or love, and then drowning because they'd gone too deep. "She's a baby," he said.

"She's my age!" Alphonse protested.

And Mom had breathed more easily.

She'd gone with them the next day, and she'd braided Winry's hair while she let the merchild tell her own tale and helped the girl wash her little dress after sending the boys to play outside the cave. On their way back home, their mother had asked them not to tell anyone about their find, that the people in Resembool had lived for too many generations without dealing with other species, and they'd forgotten they were all supposed to share the same air. Better not to present them with a little girl, too weak to defend herself on land and still too slow to escape the fishing boats (she hadn't said that last part, but Ed had explained it to his brother that night).

He should have asked their mother why _she_ hadn't forgotten.

He might as well have asked why his and Alphonse's eyes were the color of rusted gold.

But that had been the time of innocence, a time for a secret friendship with the little mergirl, trading the secrets of her sea for those of their alchemy, even if neither had a knack for the other's talent. They'd distracted her with toys and little tricks that changed them from one form to another, and, as they'd left some behind to keep her company, she'd quickly grasped how to pull them apart and build them into something new to amuse herself.

Idleness had never suited her.

Then, one day, Winry had been gone.

But, unlike their mother and their happy childhood, she had come back.

But that was the past, long gone and mostly dealt with. This was the present, where his brother's soul was housed in an armor and waited for him in town, unable to risk even the crossing to this rock. Ed didn't fare much better in water, but the little boat he'd materialized would hold him. He could have made it so it could hold Alphonse as well, but he suspected that his brother refused to let Winry see him in his current form.

Alphonse hadn't even come to say goodbye, not even from the shore, that one last time.

Ed didn't blame him. It had been awful to give Winry the news, to tell her that they were leaving and to know that, despite her promise to come to them, wherever they would call her from, neither would take her on it. The road they'd taken was their penance alone.

Edward still got a knot in his throat when he remembered how she'd inspected his new limbs, tutting at what she'd called shoddy work and making him swear he'd look for a proper automail mechanic while he was away.

He'd tried, but he moved too much. His own alchemy and a few quick stops in Rush Valley had served as his only maintenance. He didn't intend to confess that fact, of course. Not that his silence would help him much....

Curious as Winry was, she'd surely ask to check his automail again.

Soon enough, a wave brought a familiar shadow with it, and her face broke through the water even as her hands gripped the side of the rock to hold herself steadier. For a moment, her features stunned him, as he hadn't considered that the time apart would have changed her as well.

"Ed!" she said happily, and thoughts of chiseled cheeks and red lips flew away. "You're back!"

One of her hands drifted to his flesh-and-bone ankle, as if to make sure he was real, and her smile softened.

Ed was smiling back, ready to say the words he'd prepared for the occasion, when he felt her grip tighten and she yanked him down into the water. "Win-!"

"You never called for me!" she cried out, as furious as he'd ever heard her. "Not once!"

"Oi!" He managed to raise his head above the water, but far from finished with him, Winry dove down head first and before Ed could gather another breath, a twirl of her tail had washed him in a mini-wave, and then another for good measure. "Wiiiin!"

"Two years, Edward!" she screamed at him when she emerged, but her hand guided his to the security of their rock and, still grumbling, she helped him climb back.

Once safe, he glared down at her.

Blue eyes glared right back.

"You could have killed me," he barked, shaking the water off his automail limbs first, his good mood vanished.

Winry laughed. "A mermaid, let a friend drown? You've been gone too long, Edward Elric, if you've forgotten we don't do that. Besides," she added, her expression somber now, "you've proved you're more difficult to kill than that." At Ed's wince, she shrugged. "Yeah. I heard about you. Even the dock workers and the sailors know the stories of the Fullmetal Alchemist -" Despite everything, Ed gave into a satisfied smirk at the idea of his fame, when Winry finished with, "- and his tiny little brother."

The smirk faded into a scowl.

Winry started giggling. "Still too easy. Come," she said next, reaching up to nudge the back of his left hand with her fingertips. "I have a surprise for you."

Ed raised an eyebrow. "You knew I'd be calling?"

"I've had it ready for months," she told him before swimming toward the little boat that had brought him over, and true to form, she examined it curiously before nodding for him to climb in and setting out ahead of him toward the shore.

Puzzled, and more than a little curious, Ed followed her.

Winry waited until he pulled the boat into the land, saying nothing more. When he turned around, she was sitting much like the first time he'd ever seen her; upper body out of the water, her tail still washed by the foam, but this time her dress settled nicely around her, the wet fabric clinging-

The scales shimmered.

Winry made a gulping sound, almost of pain.

The scales faded.

...leaving a human pair of legs behind.

Ed jumped backwards. "What the -!"

Winry's chest was heaving, but she still managed to send a glare his way. "Most of us can't do this until we're fully grown, you know! Granny spent _months_ teaching me!"

"I... uh... I had no idea you could do it all," he offered.

Her mouth closed on another reproach. She glanced up at him and then down her body to her feet, wriggling them at the ankle. "It's not unlike making those" -she waved at his automail- "except it hurts."

"Then it's not different at all," he remarked.

Winry made a sad noise - not of pity, Ed was relieved to note, but sympathy. Slowly, still uncertainly, she pulled her knees to her body, fingering the taut skin along her shins with absent strokes. The lack of curiosity convinced Edward that she'd indeed been practicing in this form. 

She just looked... shy.

Ed panicked a little when he couldn't think of single instance where he'd needed to deal with Winry's shyness. Then he cringed inwardly when he realized he'd never dealt with any girl's emotions without making a complete fool out of himself. "So... ah...Is this normal?"

That hadn't sounded too bad in his head.

Thankfully, Winry knew him well enough to take the meaning of his question rather than its - admittedly bumbling - phrasing. "It's a secret," she explained. "This way, land-locked people don't need to fear what they don't know already walks among them."

Ed thought about the repercussions, should this come out. "Why are you telling me, Winry?"

Her blue eyes snapped up to meet, no, collide with his. This was stubborn Winry, and Edward relaxed because he'd dealt with this side of her since he was six years old.

"Because, this time, I'll be going with you."

It shouldn't have surprised him and, deep down, it did not. She _had_ offered to come with them the last time they had seen each other, and he _had_ cited her lack of mobility inland as the biggest obstacle.

Trust Winry to find a solution.

But he was dripping wet, and a little cold, and Winry - well, Winry had _legs_. He needed time to process this. "Let's go see Al first, okay?"

Because, encased in armor or not, his brother would want to see Winry like this.

Winry nodded, then made a wobbly attempt to rise to her feet. Not quite as bad as a newborn lamb, but she reminded Ed of someone whose balance was severely compromised by alcohol. Hiding a grin, he advanced toward her, and bent to offer his hand as support.

"I _am_ going this time," she told him, blue eyes flashing with resolve, as she accepted his help.

"Walk to town without falling apart," he said, securing his flesh hand around hers, just in case she'd trip, "and we'll talk about it."

"Promise?"

Ed nodded.

They'd talk. But he would find enough reasons to send her back home.

And, Ed added as he took in her increasingly confident steps, he would make her see it was for the best.

He would try, at least.

 

The End  
13/10/14


End file.
